


Lemon Shirt, Honey Eyes, Contagion Should Be No Surprise

by BloodGlitterAndHappyRageBabe



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Betting Pool, Bones is so done with the pair of them, Hurt/Comfort, Jim is a loopy nerd, M/M, Sick!Jim, Sick!Kirk, Sick!Spock, Sickfic, Spock cares too much, everyone knows but them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:58:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4698320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodGlitterAndHappyRageBabe/pseuds/BloodGlitterAndHappyRageBabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cold season round the Enterprise, some dumb nerd in the Captain's chair catches it while there's a betting pool going round the crew about him and Spock. Spock ignores Bones. Bones rages as per.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I'm pretty sick and miserable myself rn so I decided to give it to the lovable goof that is James Tiberius Nerd.

Since their last trip to a space station, the sounds of coughing, sneezing and snuffling became a common one among the crew of the USS Enterprise. It was strange, really. One would think, in space, the whole idea of flu season would be left well behind.

But currently, much to the irritation of everyone aboard the ship, that was not the case and as Spock discreetly turned to view his Captain (again), he noticed that (again) Jim was fanning a hand in front of his delicate nose before directing yet another sneeze into his elbow.  
Of course, no one would mention it, but as arguably the busiest person on the ship who cared waaaay too much about his crew, who had ensured those who were sick got proper rest in order to recover and who was often under the most stress it only seemed natural that the Captain had been hit with a case of the common cold and would continue to work through it, rather than rest himself.  
Illogical, Spock thought to himself, as he heard his friend sniff again.

Discreetly, rather than comm the ship's physician, he turned back to his console and typed a message to Doctor McCoy. {Doctor McCoy, are you currently in medical bay?}

After a few minutes, a grouchy reply came though, so typical of the doctor, [Of course, I'm in medbay, Spock, where else would I be?]  
{The Captain is exhibiting symptoms of the virus that has afflicted the crew as of late.}  
[Of course he is.]  
{He is not taking rest and rehabilitation, as one should when ill.}  
[Of course he's not. And you're worried about him]  
{Worry would imply human emotionalism,Doctor, I am merely ensuring the Captain's health is at its peak in order for him to effectively command the ship, as per my duty as First Officer.}

Spock could almost hear the southern doctor sigh from the other end of the console, [Ha. Okay.]

Spock frowned. He recognised that as sarcasm but why? Was there anything unusual or unbelievable about his statement? After a minute of pondering this, he decided to ignore whatever snide implication McCoy was making and typed back,   
{Can I rely on your medical expertise in order to effectively encourage the Captain to take time off in order to recover, or not, Doctor?}

But Spock never got a reply, and within five minutes McCoy appeared on the bridge, strolling over to Jim.

Jim, usually bright and ever-pleased to see his friend, looked nervously over his shoulder and back to the screen in front of him, trying to conceal the fact that he was breathing through his mouth.  
McCoy, as ever, took some sort of grumpy pleasure in getting one over a patient and very deliberately leaning over his Captain. "Jim." he greeted.  
Jim cleared his throat best he could but could only manage a quiet, rough, "BcCoy."  
The crew shifted, not wanting to openly stare, but they knew what was about to happen and they knew who was responsible for it. The silence radiated and Spock openly turned to watch as McCoy stared down at Jim, waiting.  
"Well, whad cad I do your for, Bodes?"  
The doctor chuckled, "Well, you can get my name right for starters, second of all, you can come down to Sickbay and book yourself in for a physical."  
"A physical? Dow? Bodes, I'b od duty..."  
"A little birdie told me you might want a visit from your friendly family doctor about a certain virus affecting your upper respiratory tract and how it might affect your fitness for duty. Now, would you have any idea what that bird might be talking about?" McCoy smiled.  
Spock rolled his eyes. The doctor had an unquestionable proclivity for illogical banter when there were more pressing issues at hand.  
Pressing issues? Yes, the Captain's health was a pressing issue but surely not so much that it would occupy his mind like this? The common cold was just that. Common. Although there was no cure, it was a rare thing for it to affect a person severely. There was little doubt in his mind that Jim would recover within a few days with some rest so why...did this issue press on his mind so? Why did he watch the doctor interact with Jim when he could be working?

"Bodes, I really dod't deed..." Jim protested,  
"Don't make me pull medical rank on you, Jim." McCoy snapped back,  
"You wouldn't dare..."  
"I damn well would, now get down to sickbay before I have Mr Spock carry you there. And don't think he wouldn't!"  
Jim turned to eye Spock suspiciously, "I'll bet. Bodes, this little bird of your's would't happed to be greed would it? Ad have poidted ears?"  
"Never mind! Come on..."  
"Spock, you have the cod." Jim managed to force out before smothering hacking coughs into his sleeve, allowing himself to be dragged away by the ship's surgeon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones and Spock reverse roles kinda.

Jim, feeling very much like a child some thirty years younger than himself, sat shirtless on the examination table while Bones snapped on a pair of examination gloves.  
"Cad't you just scad be, Bodes?" the Captain snuffled,   
"There are some things you just gotta see for yourself, Jim, I don't trust all these new fangled machines." McCoy grumbled, "Breathe in...and out. Yeah, you've got a bit of phlegm there. Cheeks a bit flushed, does this hurt?"  
"Ow. Yes."  
"Bit of sinus pressure. Open..."  
Jim opened obediently and tried not to gag as Bones stuck an old-fashioned depressor on his tongue, "Ooohh yeah, that throat looks pretty raw. I'll bet that smarts. Tonsils are a little red."  
"Cyadai clwose bai bouf daow?"   
"Sure." Bones placed his hand underneath Jim's jaw, "Glands a lil' swollen," the hand went to the forehead, "mild fever. Looks like this is one hell of a nasty cold, Captain, bordering on the flu, I reckon." he noticed the unsteady breaths coming from his captain, recognising the hand motions Jim was doing and passed him the tissue box, "I'm signing you off on medical leave until the end of the week."  
"Bodes, it's just a cold, I - " 

"Quarantined."  
That made Jim snap his head up, "Quaradtide?" he repeated, "For a cobbod code?"  
"Jim," Bones signed off on his PADD, "you know how many crew members I've seen come through this place in the past couple days?"  
Jim shrugged, blowing his nose.  
"A lot, Jim, a lot. Common colds spread quickly and apparently the universe and it's wife turns into a giant baby when it catches one. Now. You do the most on this ship. You go on missions, you hold meetings, you visit different departments, you sign everything. You know how many people you come into contact with in a single day?"  
Bones waited for an answer, but only got a sulky expression in response. Sighing, he continued, "You already overwork, meaning you're only gonna make yourself sicker. And if the Captain's sick, the ship is sick. Even more than it is now, anyway." he muttered under his breath. "You're not to move from your quarters until I give the medical say-so. Understand?"  
Jim now resembled less a high-ranking Starfleet officer and more an ill-tempered teenager who had been told he was grounded.  
"What was that?"  
"I said FINE."  
Bones rolled his eyes. Boy, was he glad he wasn't a regular doctor dealing with real teens back on Earth sometimes. 

Armed with tissues and a scowl on his face, Jim headed back to his quarters. Quarantine? Quarantine the -  
"Captain."  
Spock stepped into the turbolift, straight-backed and stiff as always, Jim couldn't help but crack a smile. Despite his rigidness and apparently emotionless demeanour, Spock had that effect on him. No matter how awful he felt, somehow or other, Spock could set this warm, liquid feeling in his belly aglow and even if he wanted to, he could stop himself from smiling.  
"Bister Spock." Jim acknowledged, tryinghis hardest to stop his nose from running. This is not how he wanted to appear in front of his friend but his nose just would not...stop...tickling and leaking. Oh God, his eyes were watering now, too. Mercilessly, in fact. Oh God, this must be SO attractive right now...  
"What was the good doctor's diagnosis?" the half-Vulcan inquired,  
"Exactly what you'd expect," Jim replied, sniffling liquidly (urgh, yeah that was really hot, Jim, he scolded himself), "although I wouldn't recobbed getting too close. I'b quaradtide."  
Spock stiffened, sending a quizzical look at his captain. Wouldn't recommend getting too close? How...what?  
It was in that moment that Spock realised, tried not to, but nonetheless realised, how close he and Jim were. They were certainly friends, one might say 'best friends'. But how close they were...physically. How comfortable Spock felt, to the point where he barely noticed, when Jim was by his side.   
Disconcerted by this sudden feeling of loss at the prospect of not having Jim close by, he barely noticed the turbolift doors open.  
"Spock?" Jim prompted him, "Aren't you getting out?"  
Spock jolted back to reality and stepped through the doors and paused before turning back, "Captain, if you are still amenable to our scheduled game of chess, I would not begrudge relocating the game to your quarters."  
Jim smiled, "My quarters? Spock, I told you Bodes put be udder quaradtide."  
"As I believe the human expression goes, Captain, what Doctor McCoy does not know, will not hurt him."

Meanwhile, in the recreation lounge, Hikaru, Janice and Tamura were handing credits over to Nyota, Bones and Scotty.  
"I told ya," Bones drawled, "that hobgoblin would do anything to see Jim was ok. Shoulda seen the way he was hanging on my every word when I was persuading the Captain to come for a physical. I bet if I ordered him to go too, he'd only protest once for show before heading down there. Any excuse to see Jim with his shirt off, I'm tellin' ya."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More bets are laid. Nothing (or no one) else is laid though. Spock is a sneaky teenager.

"So you've got the Captain in his quarters 'til the end of the week?" Hikaru asked, taking a swig of his drink.  
There were ten of them around the table in rec room 3. "Yeah," Bones replied, "he's sulking, but he'll have to put up with it - Spock'll be in command 'til then. Guess we can all take a break from watching those two makin' cow eyes, moonin' over each other.''  
There was a chuckle of assent from round the room and Scotty spoke up, "So, who wants to take the bet that Spock'll be on edge all week, worrying about Jim?"  
"Going mad from Captain withdrawal symptoms."  
"I take the bet that Spock'll be sneaking in and out of the Captain's quarters to 'play chess'."  
"Oh yeah! McCoy, you're stopping them from 'playing chess'!" Hikaru joked, mock-gasping, "How could you!"  
"Shut up!" Bones snapped, "I'll be damned if that Vulcan goes against my express orders - that wouldn't be 'logical', would it?"  
"Ah, Doctor..." Pavel sing-songed, "Meesterr Spock's logic ALVAYS falts vhen it coms to Keptin Kerk. I take ze bet."

Fortunately or unfortunately, Pavel Andreivich was right. Returning from the mess hall, Spock checked left, right, left, right again before discreetly knocking on his captain's door, which opened swiftly with a quiet 'whoosh'.  
"Bister Spock." Jim greeted. He was clad in plaid pyjama bottoms and a thick, soft grey Starfleet hoodie. He had apparently dropped all pretense now and gave into the tiredness etching his face. His small, upturned nose now a rubbed, ruby red and making quiet snuffling noises, muffled by tissues every so often. His usually neat, styled hair was tousled, flat on odd places. Golden, honey coloured eyes, glassy and pinkened.  
There was no getting round it. Jim Kirk looked...sick.

And yet, Spock felt no desire to be away from Jim. If anything he wished to be closer to him more than ever. As he watched Jim toss yet another tissue into the wastepaper bin, wincing as the material scratched his already sore nose, he had an illogical desire to hold his captain close until all traces of the illness had been thoroughly eradicated.

"Sit dowd, Spock, I'll try dot to idfect you." joked Jim, gesturing to the seat opposite, "Sorry I'b dot exactly lookig befittig of a captaid at the bobedt but this is a social visit, I suppose so id doesd't really batter...but if you'd prefer be to chadge..."  
"Unnecessary, Captain." Spock interrupted, a little quicker than he intended to, "It would be most illogical, as I have seen you out of uniform before now. Your comfort is also a priority at this time. Please, do not trouble yourself."  
"Well, you want tea or anything?"  
"No, thank you. Shall we begin the game?"

"I'm tellin' ya!" McCoy's accent was becoming thicker and thicker by the second, "Spock would definitely obey med regulations! It's logical for him to keep 'imself healthy for command until Jim comes back!"  
"Logical?" Kyle spluttered, "Why, Doctor, you're beginning to sound like Mr Spock, himself!"  
"Shut up!"

"Your move, Jim."  
The game was progressing, albeit slowly, having to make allowances for the hindrances the cold gave Jim. The coughing, the sneezing, the need to blow one's nose, or even just a tired gap between the process of one thought to another.  
"By apologies, Spock," Jim excused, sneezing again, "I ab dot at by usual stadard of playig, dor ab I particularly good company."  
"On the contrary, Jim, you have held yourself well against me, despite your condition. However, I suggest you now take some rest. The colour of your cheeks, increase in shivering and perspiration on your forehead all indicate that you are quite feverish."  
"Yeah, I guess you're right." he sighed, "Well, let be at least see you out."  
Spock stood at the door, "It was a good game, Captain."  
Jim let out a breath of laughter, "Only because you won."  
"Not necessarily." And Spock did something that made his heart hammer in the side of his torso but really didn't surprise him - or Jim, apparently - in the least.  
He reached over, through the small small between them, and gently brushed Jim's sticky bangs off his forehead, the corners of his mouth very slightly quirked in thats ecret smile Jim only knew too well. It was so familiar, so casual, and yet still felt so electric between them, Jim barely noticed his hand had a firm, affectionate grip on Spock's arm.  
"Goodnight, Jim."  
"Sleep well, Spock."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew see how far they can push their luck and Spock is in the closet.

//First Officer's Log - Mr Spock, temporarily in command. The captain is still confined to quarters. In the meantime our supply mission is progressing as expected, if slowly. The work is being done efficiently however I have noticed some illogical behaviour in members of the crew. The majority of staff aboard the Enterprise are human and, as such, do not react to long periods of waiting - as is such on this mission - as well as Vulcans. I believe these periods of frustration, leaving the staff with little to do, is having an effect on the crew.//

Seeing as this mission was a dull, slow, long-haul supply run, the crew of the Enterprise had taken it upon themselves to provide each other with entertainment in the strangest ways. Or not so, if you were in on the joke.  
It started out with Pavel and Hikaru. Hikaru would nonchalantly make some kind of random statement and Pavel would enthusiastically spin round in his chair before abruptly "Why, Meesterr..." he beamed, fluttering his eyelashes coyly, "...Sulu..." he wiggled an eyebrow suggestively and sprawled himself across Hikaru's console, "You almost make me believe in mirrracles!" Spock frowned at the Ensign's odd behaviour while the rest of the crew stifled sniggers.  
The second incident occurred when Doctor McCoy appeared on the bridge. Instead of standing next to the Captain's chair as usual he sauntered over to the Chief Engineer and spoke, loud enough for everyone to hear.  
"Are you still on to finish our 'chess' later, Scotty?"  
Scotty swivelled round in his chair to face the doctor, an uncharacteristic smirk playing at his lips and an eyebrow quirked upwards as he spoke carnally to Bones, "I'll have you checkmated within your move, Doctor."  
Even more strange than that, the good doctor giggled, "Has anyone ever told you you play a very irritating game of chess, Mr Scott?"  
"Irritating?" Scotty inquired, placing a hand over his chest, before breaking into a smile, "Ah yes, one of your redneck emotions..."

And that was how the day went on Spock becoming more and more confused by the strangeness in the behaviour of everyone around him. They all seemed to be staring deep into each other's eyes, batting their eyelashes, standing in illogically close proximity to one another. And it was...discomforting to say the least. Walking back from the mess hall, two engineers spied him walking along and one immediately backed the other against the wall, massaging his friend's forearms, sensually.  
Spock, feeling he was constantly walking in on intimate moments all around the ship, simply turned and headed in another direction.

"Captain?"  
"Cob id, Spock, cob id, board's all set up. How was your shift?"  
Spock hesitated, "Well..."  
Jim frowned, that didn't sound promising, "What? What's wrog?"  
"The crew have been...acting illogically." Spock explained, moving his pawn,  
"Are they dot co-operatig? Do I deed to step id?" Jim asked, defensively, was the crew not paying attention to Spock? Spock might be difficult to work with for those who didn't know or understand him, but he was certainly a capable and effective...  
"They are performing their tasks admirably, as always, Jim, however I feel..." Jim didn't like this. Nothing made Spock this uncertain, "I feel they all possess knowledge of something I do not."  
"What kide of dowledge?" Jim prompted suspiciously,  
"Judging from their reactions, I can only assume it is a joke of some sorts." answered the half-Vulcan, "However, I fail to understand it."  
"Fail to - ?" Jim started, but was interrupted by the buzzing of his door.

Both men froze, as if they were rabbits caught in headlights, "Who *cough*, who is it?"  
"It's McCoy, I said I'd come by earlier? Sorry I'm little late I had, er, had some business to attend to."  
"You did not mention Doctor McCoy was intending on paying you a visit, Jim." Spock hissed,  
"I forgot! Shit...er..."  
"You gonna let me in, Jim?"  
"Just a secod...! The closet, Spock, get in the closet!"  
"A most illogical choice of hiding place, Captain, surely the bathroom..."  
"He might go into the bathroom, in, in!"  
"Jim is everything alright in there?"  
"Dod't cob id! I'b, er...I'b daked!"  
"Jim, I'm a doctor, I've seen a naked man before. What are you doing naked, anyway?"  
"Ok, I'b decedt! Cob id."

Spock, with all the benefits his body afforded him, the ability to fit into small spaces was not one of them. He sat, or crouched in the most awkward position, his long arms and legs folded into positions he previously was unaware he could physically be in and struggled to keep his balance as he listened to the conversation between McCoy and Jim.  
"Fever's still there, mild, but it's not really going anywhere." he heard the doctor mutter,  
"It fluctuates," Jim replied, ripping a tissue from the box and sneezing into it twice, "it's pretty annoyig."  
"Yeah, I'll bet." McCoy said, taking out a hypospray and pressing it into Jim's arm, "This should keep it stable but it might make you go a little funny. If you're feeling nauseous or having muscle spasms, call me but you should be ok with this stuff."  
"Thagks, Bodes. Sure there's dothig that cad get be back to the bridge a lil quicker?"  
"No can do, Jim, just gotta wait this out, or rather sneeze this out, bless ya. I'll comm ya tomorrow. Night."  
"Good dight, Bodes."

Spock waited until Doctor McCoy was safely out of the room before practically falling out of the closet, suppressing a whimper of pain as he collided with the hard floor.  
"Spock, are you alright?" asked Jim, with concern, "I hodestly forgot he was cobig, I'b really sorry..."  
"It is quite alright Jim," the half-Vulcan replied, rubbing his back, "however, in future please try to remember Doctor McCoy's house calls, I am afraid my physique is not designed for stuffing itself into small spacial capacities."  
A guilty half-smile and another sneeze from Jim and Spock soon forgot the illogical behaviour of the crew and being in the closet and they simply settled down to their game.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is drunk. Oh boy, I wonder where this could lead.

Spock watched with patience as his captain, with an intense look of concentration plastered on his face, moved his chess piece with the sort of delicate intensity that one would use when performing an exceptionally intricate task rather than playing a recreational game of chess. If Spock had been human, he would have laughed.  
Jim leaned back, squinting at the 3D board, surveying his work and moving his body from side to side as if to perceive it from different angles.

"Are you satisfied with your move, Jim?"  
Jim leaned in extra close to his piece, his face almost touching it, and frowned before slowly replying, "Yes...yes I ab, Spock."  
If Spock were human, he would have snorted. 

If he were human.

Spock remembered what Doctor McCoy had said about the hypospray's effect on Jim's physical and mental state but he hadn't expected it to work so quickly. Jim sprawled across his side of the table, propping his head up against his elbow, smiling somewhat blissfully at Spock.  
"Spock?"  
"Yes, Jim?"  
"Has adyode ever told you how beautiful you are?"  
Spock paused and cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow, "A most curious question, Jim, I do not recall ever being described as 'beautiful' by anyone other than my mother. As a small child she would refer to me as 'her beautiful little boy'."  
"Well," Jim nodded, as if he were slowly processing what Spock had just said, "dow you're a very beautiful bad."  
Spock sighed, Jim was clearly inebriated and functioning even less logically than usual, "Yes, Jim."  
The captain burst out into laughter and slapped the table, as if Spock had said the funniest thing he'd heard in his thirty-something years. His whole body shook and the laughter turned to silent spasms as he rested his head on the table until the fit descended into whoops of giggles. All well and good until Jim's elbow slipped off the table, taking the rest of Jim with it.

That was quite enough for Spock. "Jim," he stood up and helped his very ill, very drunk captain up off the floor, "I believe that we have played enough chess for this evening. It is time for you to rest."  
"Bu' we did't fidish the gabe! Did we fidish the gabe?" Jim wondered,  
Vulcans do not lie, Spock told himself, "I...conceded the game to you, Jim. My position was...compromised." That, technically, was not a lie. It would have been a hollow victory at best, playing against someone high off flu medicine.  
"So I wod?"  
"Yes, Jim, you won."  
"Oh hooray!" and yes, Spock was ashamed to admit his heart fluttered in his side at the sight of Jim's hazed eyes lighting up at the news of his apparent victory, "We...we should celebrate. C'bere, c'bere...I'll put od sobe busic...I thignk I have sobe Robulad ale stashed here...ssshhhh..." he giggled, putting his finger to his lips, "dod't tellt he adbiraflty!"  
"I...think it would be best if you went to bed, Jim." coaxed Spock, gently guiding/carrying his captain over to the bed, "I believe rest will heal you faster, there enabling you to return to the bridge earlier."  
As if Spock had said something that had never occurred to him, Jim gasped, "Spock, you're right! Yes, yes, the bed."  
"To the bed, Captain."

Jim was now sat up on the edge of his bed, sniffling. After making sure he was placed in a position where Spock was sure he could do no damage to himself, the half-Vulcan got up and went to the bathroom, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, he walked back into the room and placed the glass on the nightstand and why was Jim looking at him like that?  
He had seen the look before. The soft, warm gaze of admiration and affection but, whether it was the medicine or the illness or perhaps both that made it seem more pronounced set goosebumps on Spock's skin. On missions, on the bridge. Whenever Spock was giving his opinion or even engaging in simple conversation. If they were talking amongst themselves or he was introducing Spock to someone else, it almost seemed like Jim was...proud...to have Spock by his side.

Spock stood by the bed and Jim touched his forearm, indicating that he wanted Spock to sit next to him, and Spock did so, wordlessly. Jim's hand came up to his shoulder, the glazed over look in his eyes swirling with the pure unadulterated emotion that Spock could feel practically screaming out from him. Jim shifted closer, could they even be closer? Spock held his breath, his skin tingled, his entire body on vibrate...what was this sensation? The sensation he felt so often around Jim, which was now amplified by a hundred, he just.  
"So beautiful.."  
And their lips connected.  
And it was like a firework going off in Spock's brain. The rush of feelings, surging through both of them while they were connected in this single, physical moment of pure emotional, mental energy, it was just...  
"Heh, eh-hehEEETTTSCHeeww!"  
Jim broke away and turned to sneeze viciously into his elbow and, as if a lightswitch had been flipped in Spock. Jim was still sick. Jim had been issued medicine which impaired his judgement and Spock should not be participating in activities that the captain would otherwise never ever do.  
With that thought in mind Spock felt sick. Sick with himself, sick with shame that he could succumb to such selfishness, such weakness, such temptation. How could he?  
"Spock," Jim snuffled, ripping a tissue from the box on the bed, "I'b sorry, I lost...I did't bead. I'b godda get you sick, I'b so sorry..."  
"Captain," Jim flinched inwardly at hearing Spock return to using his formal title, "the fault is mine, I...was overwhelmed by your sudden influx of emotion and lost myself. I can assure you it will not happen again."  
"Spock, I..." another sneeze interrupted him.  
"I will leave you to your rest, Captain."  
Disappointment flooded Jim, "Yes. Good dight, Spock."  
"Sleep well, Jim."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hung-over people always say 'It must have been a good night if you don't remember what happened' but those people never remember getting fined for peeing on a wall, throwing up in the gutter, necking an absolute minger in the club and trying to get a police officer to buy you shots before your mates drag you away because you can no longer walk in your heels and you end up crawling halfway home before you find a taxi to pass out in and you end up going back to Kelsey's because you're too drunk to find your keys and then you wake up to a Maccie's breakfast the next morning and you remember nothing because you downed that banana vodka shot like it was your last inch of rocket fuel.

Spock did not sleep that night.  
Still, he felt the warmth of Jim's mouth lingering on his lips. The sweet taste. The memory of Jim's cushion-y lips, slightly dry from breathing through his mouth, pressed against his own. A kiss so sweet it almost dripped honey.  
"Jim..."  
Spock felt his two halves warring. The logical Vulcan in him reminding him that Jim was not in his right mind, that he was under the influence. It would be both immoral and illogical to pursue a moment of faulty control further.  
His human half, his emotional human half shouted at him to return to Jim, to apologise for leaving so abruptly, to tell Jim everything and kiss him more. Again and again. 

Spock sat up. He was getting nowhere with trying to sleep. There had to be something to do. Meditation? Meditation was necessary.

Incense burning, a trail of smoke snaking upwards like spider's silk, it's sharp, sweet perfume clouding up and expanding over the room. The scent always make Jim's nose wrinkle whenever he entered Spock's quarters after he had been meditating. A little part of Spock smiled, watching Jim's button nose wiggle like that, as he fanned a hand in front of his face.  
No, no! Clear your mind. Do not think of Jim. Do not think of Jim.  
Candles lit. The tiny bright lights, barely illuminating the room, reminding him of the firefly-like creatures he and Jim discovered on Crius Delphi 9, a planet in nearly permanent darkness. Jim had been fascinated by the little creatures. Spock remembered him getting close enough to a group of them and seeing them light up his captain's face, joyous and excited. Spock had smiled in the darkness. Seeing Jim so -   
No! Stop thinking of Jim! Stop thinking of Jim!

The half-Vulcan sighed. This was getting nowhere. Not even meditation could help him with this unduly frustrating situation. He has studied the sciences of the universe, he is the First Officer on Starfleet's first-class flagship AND YET here he was at 1:00 hours, being kept up by his presumably passed-out captain.  
Unless Jim is thinking the same as he...  
Spock slammed his head on the pillow in an uncharacteristic display of annoyance and tried to sleep.

As it happened, Jim was not thinking the same as he. Jim was passed out cold in bed, all but dead to the world. 

Spock did not see Jim at all that next day. He did not send Jim any messages. He did not sneak into Jim's room. Despite this, he kept glancing at his console and his PADD. Had Jim sent him anything? No.  
Was he going to? Did he regret his actions last night? Was he embarrassed? Was he angry at Spock for kissing back? Was this the end of their friendship? Would they become awkward acquaintances who could barely look one another in the eye until neither one of them could stand it and one of them transferred off-ship? Spock would do it. Jim should not have to give up the Enterprise for a mild indescretion -  
"Mr Spock?" Hikaru prompted him, after asking for orders twice.  
Spock shook himself back to the job, "Ahead, warp factor one, Mr Sulu."  
"Aye, sir..." Hikaru sent a quizzical look to Pavel, who looked round to Nyota. What was going on with Commander Spock?

"Well, your fever's stayed down, so that's good." Leonard told Jim, "Throat looks like it's eased up a little and your glands are down too. Keep this up, get a good night's sleep tonight and I might - MIGHT - just let you return to the bridge tomorrow."  
"Really?" Jim's face brightened up, sparking a little relief in Leonard. Jim didn't look quite so much like a deflated balloon now.  
"I said 'might', Jim, I'll check tomorrow and then I'll make the decision."  
"I'll be good, Bones, I promise!"

*Bdeep!*  
[Spock, Bones says I might be able to come back to the bridge tomorrow :-) also sorry for falling asleep last night, looks like we were halfway through a game - finish it tonight xx?]

Spock froze. Fell asleep in the middle of the game? He doesn't remember?  
He remembers...nothing?  
Half of Spock was relieved. The other - a feeling Spock could not quite explain. Sadness? No. Annoyance? No...  
Illogical. Illogical. ILLOGICAL.

Spock must be pretty busy today, Jim thought to himself, he hasn't answered back - maybe he's down in the labs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care what you say, Captain James T. Kirk uses emoticons and kisses on his messages, ya'll can fight me. Comments appreciate pls they keep me fuelled xxx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *screams and bangs fists on the table* EVERYBODY KNOWS BUT THEM. EVERYBODY KNOWS BUT THEM.

"Hello, lovely crew!" Jim called, beaming as he strolled onto the bridge, "Your captain is been allowed out! The bear is loose!"  
Nyota rolled her eyes good-naturedly as Hikaru and Pavel snickered.  
"Now I don' want any wild space battles!" Doctor McCoy snapped, "You're still supposed to take it easy!" To which Scotty made a face behind him.

Spock, very pointedly, did not react to his captain's return. It was impossible to look at Jim's face without remembering their lips locked, tender hands touching. And Spock's heart wrenched knowing that Jim remembered nothing. Or at least, didn't want to.  
Was it possible that Jim had remembered? And just hadn't wanted to broach the subject? Even if, even if, Jim returned his feelings, is it just that he doesn't want to pursue a relationship with his first officer? Should Spock bring it up?

"Mr Sulu, how far off are we from our destination?" Jim certainly seemed to be in a bouncy mood.  
"Just over a day now, sir."  
Janice appeared, "Sir, the reports..."  
"Reports, signing - "  
Jim was cut off by the sound of a large, violent earth-shattering sneeze to the right of him and the whole bridge turned to look at the perpetrator.

The crew exchanged knowing looks, the kind that said money would be handed over later, and judging by the look on Leonard's face, he'd be handing over a fair bit of it. Spock, froze, wrist pressed against his leaking nose and turned to look at Jim, who was smiling amusedly, a flash of guilt in his golden eyes.  
Oh no...

"Ahead warp factor two."


End file.
